Remind Me
by NamiEmi
Summary: If you don't remember your whole world, what are you? Tomoyo tries to come to terms with her memory disorder. KuroTomo.


The sun rolled above the horizon, increasing in intensity with each moment that passed. It rested on a particular neighborhood, pouring through the bedroom window of a particular woman, still blissfully asleep. The sound of running water filtered across the room, causing her to stir. A man, razor and towel in hand, poked his head out, and, seeing her still asleep, smiled and returned.

The woman rolled over to her side and woke. Her violet eyes shifted slowly around the room, searching for signs of familiarity, but finding none. She came further awake with a jolt. It didn't help that she saw the man trying to exit the bathroom quietly as she shot up out of bed. A scream was just about to escape her lips when the man hurried over and pressed a finger to his own mouth, holding his other hand out in an attempt to calm her.

"It's ok, it's ok, I can explain."

"Where am I? Who are you?" She protested, holding her head while trying to process the sequence of events so far. "I don't remember what happened yesterday, but I must have had too much to drink…although…I don't have a hangover…and I don't drink…"

The man stifled a laugh.

"Tomoyo, you live here."

She eyed him suspiciously for several more seconds before finally complying. At first, she didn't understand what he meant, but a strange little piece of jewelry around the finger on her left hand that corresponded to the finger on his left her speechless.

"At least you kept it on before you went to bed, or I don't know if we would have found it again."

"Sooo...you're saying we're...I think I would remember getting married," she noted suspiciously, disregarding the implication for now that he lived here, too. "Show me the marriage license."

As if he had sensed the question, he pulled open a drawer from the bedside table and produced the document. His voice came quietly after minutes of awkward silence, "I may seem like a stranger now, but I haven't always been."

His eyes were fixed on a picture hanging beside the only mirror in the room, and she followed his gaze. The photograph showed the two dining at a table overlooking the ocean, holding up a fresh catch of fish for the camera and grinning proudly.

There were now too many factors that backed his story up for her to deny. It didn't make her feel any calmer, though.

"The way the doctors explained it to me, you have a form of early onset memory loss—you retain most of your old memories, but you have trouble forming new ones. It's like clockwork, almost. You wake up, not knowing where you are, not remembering me. Not every time is the same, though; some days you remember more than others, but you remember better if I keep telling you."

"Can I ask you something?"

"Sure," he said, nodding.

"If what you're saying is true—that I usually don't remember each day—then why do you keep explaining everything? You must get tired of it. _I_ would."

"I thought it was obvious," he said matter-of-factly, sitting down next to her, closer than before, forcing her to look away.

"But," she stammered behind the warmth of her face, "it doesn't make sense to me."

He shrugged. "I know it's a lot. You'd think with all the times I've had to tell you, I would figure out a better system, but…I haven't. Sorry."

Realization dawned on her. "How many times have you had to tell me?"

"Well, we've been married eight years, so-"

"Wait, eight _years_?!"

"You make that face almost every time, too," he laughed. "But yeah, we have, and they've been great."

"I…I don't know what to say," she sighed. "Now that you mention it, I do remember most of my childhood, my family, my friends...I remember meeting you vaguely, but not much else."

He nodded his head as if he had expected this answer and rose to glance at the clock.

"Our neighbor usually comes right about now to check in on you—I don't know if you remember Sakura."

She looked up, surprised to find that she actually did now that he had said the name.

He placed a sympathetic hand on her shoulder. "I'll be back around four, and then we can go to dinner if you want. I'll explain anything else then if you still have questions."

Tomoyo was too preoccupied in her thoughts to answer properly, so she managed a nod.

"Just think about it and let me know," he called, letting the front door creak behind him. She heard his voice mingle with a woman's outside (she assumed this was the neighbor) and then the drone of a car leaving. The doorbell rang, and she jumped—then chided herself for being so easily frightened when she knew who it must be. Her socks padded along the wooden floor, carrying her to the door's peephole. The person on the other side had short hair pushed back by ear muffs, and she kicked her feet from side to side, absentmindedly trying to keep warm.

Despite this information, Tomoyo turned the door handle apprehensively, all the while imagining all the horrible things that might go wrong if this person was not who she remembered as "Sakura". The neighbor greeted her with a smile.

"Tomoyo! Mind if I come in? It's a little cold out here."

Once inside, Sakura moved toward the warmth from the living room fireplace.

"Kurogane must have started it again before he left," she commented, then glanced sheepishly at her friend. "Sorry, I hope you don't mind me using it, too."

Now she remembered. Sakura always would apologize for the smallest things. Once, she had even apologized for getting accepted to a different culinary school. Tomoyo smiled at the bittersweet memory, because the girls had been so close and had wanted to stay together through college.

"That was the worst day of my life!" Sakura exclaimed when prompted about it. "I had decided not to go—I even had the rejection letter in my hand ready to send back when I told you. You were so upset with me! You said, 'You're too smart _not_ to go. Don't you dare give up on this because of me!' And then..." She paused, catching her breath in a laugh, "you ripped the letter in half! Of course, it wasn't funny at the time, but the look on your face was so calm when you did it..."

"Oh, yeah! But I only did it because I was worried you were making a mistake. I was pretty high-strung then."

"' _Was?'_ "

The two laughed long and hard, enjoying sharing the emotions of that day. The conversation came easier and more like it had been.

"Did you regret moving next to me?" Tomoyo questioned good-naturedly.

"Somehow we were never home at the same time of day as you, so me and Syaoran didn't even know you lived next door until three weeks after we moved here."

"You never told me that! And all this time I thought you had been avoiding me. But Syaoran's the guy you met at school, right? The school you _almost_ didn't go to. I'm such a good friend," Tomoyo winked." "I practically gift-wrapped a husband for you!"

"You did," Sakura chuckled, letting an easy silence fall between them before adding, "You've got a great one, too, though. I was thinking that when I saw the fire."

"What about it?"

"Well, he starts it nearly every morning for you when it's cold. I think sometimes he's in a hurry or forgets, but one morning I saw him go to the car with the lighter in his hand and run back in when he realized. It was so sweet."

When her friend didn't say anything, Sakura looked over. Tomoyo had both her hands squeezing the back of her neck while she propped back on the couch, which Sakura recognized from days past as Tomoyo's little habit to help her think. She usually did this without being aware of the surroundings, which had made for some funny mishaps (bumping into Sakura elbows-first, for one).

She soon became aware Sakura was waiting for her to say something.

"Sorry, it's just...when I talk to you, it's easier. I still feel like I _know you_. But I'm still trying to get used to the idea that Kurogane is supposed to be part of my life—all this," she indicated the house with a sweep of her hand, "is supposed to be part of my life. I'm supposed to have a routine. When he—or you, for that matter—tried to tell me things about us, it's kind of like talking about strangers, you know? It's awkward. It's like when your parents talk about a relative you only met once, or maybe never met, and they try to tell you all the great things they did in their life, but...you're removed from that person, because those weren't _your_ experiences. You've only heard about them. Does that make sense?"

Sakura nodded. "It must be difficult."

Tomoyo laughed. "I've told you something similar before, haven't I?"

"I don't mind. This is one of your better days." Her friend smiled sheepishly again, as only she could.

"Really? I'd hate to see myself on a bad day, then!"

Sakura smiled, waving her hand. "Anyway, I came over to ask if you would come with me to the charity lunch they're having downtown. Syao's at work, too, so I don't want to go by myself."

"I'd like to...but I literally won't know anyone there."

"Not at all! You'll recognize a lot of people, I promise."

It took a little more insisting, but Sakura at last persuaded her friend to join the event. It took longer, however, for Tomoyo to decide what to wear. Each outfit was perfect, Sakura assured her, but the other girl could not be satisfied, until at last Sakura had to prompt her from the other room, "The lunch starts at 2:00, so if we don't hurry, we'll be late."

"You're right," sighed Tomoyo. "I'm so indecisive about these things." Her fingers slowly brushed against each item in her closet, until they fell on the long, dark blue pencil skirt with an A line blouse she had tried on before.

She quickly slipped her coat over them, shaking her head and smiling at her own misgivings that it wasn't as perfect as she wanted. "It's as good as any." She further bundled herself with a scarf, gloves, and hat.

The two walked out into the chilly noon day.


End file.
